Life in Vatican City

They all started temporarily in the small annexe to the Convent of Santa Marta, built for the use of pilgrims and known as the Palazzina. The building had no bath, nor even a hot tap. Osborne had four tiny cell-like rooms, two for himself, one for the typist, and one for the butler. The rooms were sordid. They dined in the refectory of the Convent, where meals were cooked by the French and Belgian sisters of Charity of St Vincent de Paul, odd but attractive in their huge white pointed coifs. Other foreign nationals of the Curia came to dine in the refectory. D'Ormesson said aloud, in such a way that he hoped to be overheard even in the highest quarter, that it was very extraordinary that, with the exception of the First World War, he should wait to be an ambassador before he found himself in a place where he could not wash. Osborne hardly missed the hot water. ‘I quite enjoy the crossword puzzle of washing from head to foot from a small basin with an inconveniently projecting tap.’ Feeling absurd, he went over to the flat of Monsignor Montini to take a bath. He also left with Montini a lot of the Legation's money for safe-keeping. More than the tap, he minded the smell of mice and pilgrims in his bedroom, and the cloud of dust and flies which flew in if he opened a window.